


What More Should I Have Done?

by johnsarmylady



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 08:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnsarmylady/pseuds/johnsarmylady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the moments that Sherlock stood on the roof of St Bart's, and in the immediate aftermath, here are the thoughts and feelings that went through John's mind. An angsty one-shot in response to a suggestion by Ennui Enigma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What More Should I Have Done?

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the angst level is not too much! The italics are John’s thoughts. Advisory note for swearing and blasphemy.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Sherlock characters. Thanks to all the actors, writers, etc that make the original series so worth writing about!
> 
> The words from TRF have been borrowed – I make no profit (in fact no money of any kind) from the use of these words, it just shapes the story.

John’s phone rang as he got out of the cab. Hurrying towards the hospital entrance he pulled it from his pocket.

“Hello?”

“John”

“Hi Sherlock, you okay?”

“Turn around and walk back the way you came”

“No, I’m coming in”

“Just do as I ask, please!”

 “Where?”

“Stop there”

“Sherlock”                                                     

“Okay look up, I’m on the rooftop.”

_‘Bloody hell, what’s he…..’_

“Oh God!”

“I….I….I can’t come down so, we’ll…we’ll just have to do it like this”

‘ _What?  What does he mean he can’t come down? Do what like this? No!  Oh God no, he can’t surely….he won’t …..’_

“What’s going on?”

“An apology” Sherlock paused “It’s all true.”

‘ _Shit! This can’t be happening!_ ’

“What?”

“Everything they said about me – I invented Moriarty”       

_‘No, I don’t believe that – I won’t believe it! That bastard held me captive, wired me up to a fuck-load of Semtex….’_

“Why are you saying this?”

“I’m a fake!”

“Sherlock…..”

‘ _Is he crying?  Christ is he really crying?  Oh God!  I need to get up there!_ ’

“The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade, I want you to tell Mrs Hudson, and Molly – in fact tell anyone who will listen to you” – pause – “that I created Moriarty for my own purposes!”

‘ _Jesus what is he saying? No! It’s not true, I know it’s not true! How can I…_ ’ 

“Okay, shut up Sherlock, shut up. The first time we met, the first time we met you knew all about my sister right?”

‘ _Please Sherlock, listen to yourself….listen to **me**! We can beat this…we can beat him….please!  You have so much to live for, so much to give!_ ’

“Nobody could be that clever.”

“You could!”

‘ _Of course you could you attention seeking git! Is this what you’re doing? Attention seeking? God, what **are** you doing? Come down ‘Lock, we can talk this through! Please!  When did you start to care what the papers said, what people thought? _ ’

Sherlock gave a little choked laugh – paused, then sniffed. Tears stained his pale cheeks, dried there by the wind that danced around the rooftops, oblivious to the drama unfolding in its playground.

“I researched you – before we met I discovered everything I could to impress you. It’s a trick, just a magic trick”

_‘No, you couldn’t have – it just wasn’t possible! There was nothing about me to research – I was ….am….nobody!’_

“No. Alright stop it now!”

_‘That’s it!  I’m going up there – he can’t do this…he can’t jump.  Oh God please let me get up to him in time….’_

“No stay exactly where you are – don’t move”

“Alright”

The man on the roof took several rapid deep breaths “Keep your eyes fixed on me…please will you do this for me?”

‘ _It sounds like he’s begging…..Sherlock never begs…_ ’

 “Do what?”

_‘Watch you?  Dammit Sherlock I’ve killed for you, I’ll watch you all you want but please…..please not this! Don’t make me do this….don’t make me watch you jump, let me help you sort this out! God what can I say to stop this?’_

 “This phone call it’s er, it’s my note.  ’S what people do don’t they, leave a note?”

_‘Stop this Sherlock, let me help you…’_

“Leave a note when?”

_‘Oh no no no!  Why won’t he listen?  Why? He’s really going to….’_

“Goodbye John”

John felt as if he were made of stone, or ice, frozen in place watching….distanced from reality. Time stood still.

_‘Not goodbye, Sherlock. Jesus Christ not goodbye!’_

“No….don’t…..”

Sherlock threw down his phone, spread his arms and, ever graceful, fell forwards.

“Sherlock!.............Sherlock” 

_‘Dear God please let him live, let him stay alive, he can survive this, he can! Please!_ ’

As Sherlock plummeted John started to move forward.

_‘Maybe I can break his fall….he is so much more than I will ever be….he cannot – must not – die!’_

From out of nowhere a cyclist smashed into him, knocking him off his feet.  As he hit the floor he registered pain. Pain in his head as it connected with the tarmac, pain in his side where the cyclist had hit him, but worse…the greatest pain of all…was the pain in his heart knowing he had not prevented his best friend from impacting with the pavement.  In his mind’s eye he could see the broken bones, the blood……

Dragging himself to his feet, he staggered towards the crowd now gathering around the body on the floor.

“Sherlock, Sherlock….”

He tried to push through the throng.

“I’m a doctor, let me come through – let me come through please, he’s my friend, he’s my friend please….please let me just….”

Finally he got through, almost collapsing as he looked down at his bloodied and broken friend. Reaching forward he felt for a pulse….but it was all in vain. He stared at the open, lifeless eyes.

“Oh Jesus no…… God, no!”

_‘Too late!  I was too late! He’s dead, my best friend…..my only friend….gone….’_

It seemed there were many pairs of hands willing to help John to his feet as the hospital staff lifted Sherlock’s body onto the trolley.  As he was wheeled away John straightened up, holding his hands up in a gesture of submission, he would not throw himself across his friend’s dead body as they seemed to fear that he would.

Stepping back he rejected their sympathetic looks, their offers of assistance, and eventually the crowd melted away, leaving him alone to stare at the pool of Sherlock’s blood on the pavement.

‘I would have done anything, Sherlock, you know that don’t you? You didn’t have to jump – you could have…..we could have…..God Sherlock, why? Why didn’t you stay? Why leave like this? They were lies, Sherlock, the papers were lying – not you, never you! When it really mattered you never lied!  And I let you down.  My best friend – how can I say that now? I let you down and now you’re dead, Sherlock, DEAD! I tried, really, I tried to make you see.  What a waste!  Jesus what a waste of a life, of your great brain, the world doesn’t know what it’s lost yet, but it will!  Fuck telling them all you’re a fake Sherlock Holmes, fuck that to hell and back! I believe in you! I know you were the real thing! Nothing anyone can say will make me believe otherwise! You were the best man I ever knew, the most human…..human being….and I failed you!  I fucking failed you! Sherlock! Please…..what more should I have done?

 


End file.
